


Dark Star

by Dormchi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Divergence, FYSL Hotter Than Hell Fanwork Exchange, Frottage, M/M, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1994385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dormchi/pseuds/Dormchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt filled for the FYSL Hotter Than Hell Fanwork Exchange. Basically just wing!kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Star

For as long as Sam can remember, he’s had an angel looking out for him. Some of his earliest memories are of his mother tucking him in to bed after Daddy and Dean gave him their goodnight kisses, pulling up the covers and pressing her own kiss to his forehead.

She would smile down at him and whisper, “Go to sleep, sweetheart. Angels are watching over you.”

There’s only one angel. He’s not just any angel, either.

When Sam was six months old, a fire started from a faulty electrical outlet in his nursery. Mary Winchester was almost consumed in the blaze trying to save her infant son.

Mary has no memory of how she ended up outside on the lawn with no injuries of any kind.

John only remembers picking baby Sam out of his crib and handing him to his big brother.

Dean remembers a stronger sense of purpose than he’d ever felt in his four short years:  _keep Sammy safe._

—

_“You’re the best angel ever!”_

_“I’m the only angel you’ve ever met.”_

_“So? I just know. Out of all of ‘em, you’re the best ‘cause you’re mine,” Sam assures the angel with childlike certainty, unshakable faith that he won’t be talked out of._

—

_“What’s your name?”_

_“I don’t have one.”_

_“I don’t believe you! Everyone has to have a name.”_

_“If I tell you, do you promise not to tell a soul?” Lucifer doesn’t care if Sam knows his name. He worries more about what might happen if Sam tells someone that an angel talks to him._

_The smile on Sam’s face could light up a dark room. “Cross my heart!”_

—

“I don’t understand humanity,” the angel had said quietly one night, offering Sam his finger to use as counterpoint while the chubby little boy twirled around on his tiptoes.

There was weight behind his words that Sam didn’t appreciate when he was little. What Lucifer really meant was at the moment was: “I don’t understand humanity in general, but I  _really_  don’t understand you or why I like you so much.”

Like all the times before that, Lucifer stayed with Sam until the little boy just couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. In the morning, Sam woke up snuggled under the covers feeling like he’d gotten the best sleep of his life. 

Lucifer was gone, but there was no doubt in Sam’s mind that he would come back.

—

Sam couldn’t stay small forever. He’s been packing for college for the better part of a week now—he’s probably got more things than he can possibly fit in a dorm room. Dean is going to gripe about trying to fit all of the bags in the car, but Sam doesn’t want to leave without these pieces of home to remind him that college isn’t exile. College is freedom, college is where he’ll find his purpose in life.

Lucifer is sitting cross-legged on Sam’s bed, leaning back against the wall with his eyes shut. The angel is painfully silent—apparently watching Sam pack up everything he owns to go to somewhere new isn’t setting well with him.

“You can visit me in the dorms, can’t you?” Sam looks up from his spot on the floor, pushing the backpack he’d been filling off to the side.

A glimmer of light by Lucifer’s left shoulder catches Sam’s eye, and he shakes his hair from his eyes so he can watch for it again.

“I can visit you anywhere, as long as I have your permission.”

Sam feels a little better.

“Do you have wings?” Sam asks suddenly. Lucifer stares at Sam for the longest time, blue eyes clear and bright, and says nothing. Worried that he asked a stupid question, Sam amends quickly, “There’s this weird light behind you. Looked like something shifting against the wall. Kind of like, y’know, maybe… wings? Do angels actually have wings or is that something we made up?”

“You can see them?” Sam doesn’t know what he expected Lucifer to say, but that wasn’t it. If Sam didn’t know better, he would say Lucifer looks a little startled.

“Not really?” It comes out sounding like a question.

Lucifer stares at Sam for another few longs moments, then leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his fingers an elegant steeple in front of his mouth. He looks like he wants to tell Sam something and is having a hard time with it, which is a worrying thought on its own. Lucifer is always painfully honest with Sam.

“What do they look like to you?”

Sam’s face feels flushed all of a sudden, and he picks himself up off the floor. He can’t get a good view from down on the ground. Sam sits down on the bed next to Lucifer, facing the opposite way so he can stare at the place where the glimmer of light had been.

The detail is a little easier to see up close—soft, shimmery and almost like a mirage. He’s got this feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’s not supposed to be able to see these.

“They look like light. Can I touch them?”

“Can you?”

Sam rolls his eyes and scoots a little closer, knee bumping against Lucifer’s as he reaches out with his hand. What his fingers brush against isn’t downy or soft like he’d expected, just smooth. His fingertips start to tingle immediately, little currents of energy prickling in the unique swirls of his fingerprints and traveling through the back of his hand.

“Oh.” The shaky breath that leaves Lucifer’s mouth ghosts over Sam’s cheek. The air in the room feels thicker, the moment much more intimate. Sam doesn’t see any reason to quit, but he’s unsure.

“Should I stop?” Sam asks.

Lucifer fits his hand over the rise of Sam’s hip bone and buries his face in Sam’s neck, exhaling shakily against his skin. “Don’t stop.”

Sam doesn’t know if he could stop even if he wanted to. He cups the back of Lucifer’s head, scratching lightly at his scalp and neck. Lucifer’s wing quivers beneath the palm of his other hand, thick feathers parting around his fingers when he pushes them deeper. What he finds underneath is soft and cool to the touch, brushing against his fingertips lovingly as he moves them.

The wings move and twitch, caught between Sam and the wall, and Sam can't tell if Lucifer is trying to pull them away or push them into Sam's hand.

“You’re cold.” It seems like a silly thing to say when he’s knuckles deep in wings that he shouldn’t be able to see. He’s touching wings. Angel wings.

“Does it bother you?” Lucifer asks, voice hitching slightly.

“No.”

They stay just like that for what feels like a very long time, until Sam gets brave and grips a handful of feathers, pulling on them gently at first and then harder. The feeling is electric, energy dancing along the skin of his arm and straight in to his chest. His heart thumps erratically, loud enough that he’s sure Lucifer can hear it, but he doesn’t stop. 

“They feel nice,” Sam sighs, tugging and releasing the feathers over and over rhythmically. His cock is a thick, hard line in his sweatpants, energy moving through him full circle and making him more aroused than he’s ever been in his life. “You feel nice.”

Lucifer moans open-mouthed and filthy against Sam’s neck, squeezing Sam’s hip hard enough to bruise. The harder Sam pulls, the harder Lucifer seems to try to stifle the sounds falling out of his mouth.

Sam pulls his hand from the back of Lucifer’s neck and pulls back just enough to get the angel to lift his head. The look on Lucifer’s face is pure arousal, followed closely by confusion and panic when Sam lets go of his wing.

“Sam, I—”

Sam isn’t in the mood for speeches about consent, so he moves fast. He’s straddling Lucifer’s lap and kissing the angel quiet in a second, all while sinking his two hands in to the feathers of each wing. He greedily swallows Lucifer’s groans, feels the tendrils of energy climb up his arms and travel down his torso to his engorged cock.

Lucifer grips Sam so tight that he feels like he could be falling from a building and still be perfectly safe. The first hard grind of Sam’s hips bumps their clothed cocks together, friction that has Sam nearly vibrating out of his skin for how fucking good it feels.

“Clothes,” Sam gasps, unable to finish the thought or the sentence before Lucifer gives him what he wants. He doesn’t know why he knew that Lucifer could get them naked immediately, he just did, and the feel of hot flesh on cool is startling.

There’s no time to do anything besides rut against each other. Sam’s not going to last for any kind of foreplay, not when Lucifer wraps a hand around both their cocks together. He rubs his thumbs in the soft down of Lucifer’s bottom coat of feathers, alternating between that and pulling as hard as he dares. 

Sam is the first to spill, coming hot and wet in to Lucifer’s hand and across his lower belly. His muscles seize up and he squeezes his eyes shut, moaning as his cock pulses in the tight circle of Lucifer’s fingers.

For a few seconds after, he thinks he can see the color of Lucifer’s feathers. 

Lucifer follows quickly after that, encouraged by Sam whispering in his ear and Sam’s fingers pushing in to his feathers one last time. He shudders and bites down on Sam’s shoulder, just hard enough to muffle the wrecked noise he makes as he comes. 

Before they even fully finish, Sam is almost asleep in the circle of Lucifer’s arms, head bowed so he can hide his flushed face against Lucifer’s neck. He doesn’t know why he’s so tired, but there’s elation and nervous energy keeping his eyes open just long enough to watch Lucifer’s wings again.

“Will I ever be able to see them better?”

Lucifer is quiet as he moves Sam’s pliant limbs, arranging him so his head is half on a pillow and half on Lucifer’s lap. The shared mess is magically, angelically gone, and Sam is suddenly so tired he feels like he could sleep for a week.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

There are a lot of things they should probably talk about, including the interspecies sex that just happened on Sam’s bed, but Sam sighs and nuzzles into Lucifer’s thigh until his head is sufficiently pillowed. Lucifer runs his fingers through Sam’s hair gently, soothing his mind without any words just like always until Sam's breath evens out in deep, peaceful sleep.


End file.
